Wake Up
by SweetInsanityWrites
Summary: After getting Connor killed for the first time (in the damn tower), I wondered how Hank could've felt and reacted afterwards. So, here's a little One-Shot about that scenario. Also, a little bit of post-credit hug magic because I love that Scene. basic Spoilers for the Connor storyline, obviously


It all happened in a blur.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson was talking to the Uniform in the hallway, trying to understand how a group of deviant Androids could've surpassed one of the most advanced security systems in Detroit, when a dark shape rushed passed him and he heard a yell from the other side of the hallway.

He swung around only to see the Android wrestle a gun from another cop's hands, vaguely noticed it taking aim at him, then he was thrown to the ground, slamming into the linoleum.

Gunshots rang in his ears, his heart racing.

It took him a second to notice Connor on top of him and another second to register the streams of bright blue blood streaming from the Android's body.

He sat up, pulling him into his lap.

His heart skipped a beat, panic tightening his chest.

"Connor?"

A look of terror was frozen on his partner's face, part of the artificial skin flickering as the energy systems shut down.

Gently, Hank lowered the body to the ground, closing his eyes like he would for a human.

He stared at the puddle of Thirium gathering around them, soaking through his clothes.

Footsteps sounded behind him.

"Agh dammit. Hope we don't have to pay for that damage."

Perkins. Dickhead.

Hank cast him an angry glance.

"He saved my life. He died protecting me."

The Agent shrugged. "That's it's job, Hank. It's programmed for that kinda thing." He sighed. "Well, better call CyberLife to pick up this thing. Don't envy the guy who's gotta do the paperwork for it."

Hank stared at his hands, covered in blue blood.

Perkins was wrong.

Connor was programmed to catch deviants. His mission was solving the case no matter what. And yet he'd chosen to protect him rather than stop the suspect on the run.

Like he'd chosen to pull him up from that rooftop rather than catch the pigeon guy.

Like he'd chosen to let the Traci's escape.

He got to his feet, clumsily, watching as the staff Androids stuffed Connor's body in a bag, scrubbing the sticky fluid off the floor like it was nothing.

What made them different?

What made them handle the dead body of one of their own like a broken toaster, while others of their kind spoke of love and hope and freedom?

He went home feeling strangely empty.

Sumo placed his giant head on his lap, looking up at him with big, dark eyes.

"You liked him too, didn't you?" Hank asked thoughtfully.

It was just a machine. That got damaged. That did it's job and broke. Collateral damage.

But why did it hurt so much?

And, fuck, Hank was tired of hurting.

So tired of being sad, exhausted by this constant emptiness.

But it had been better. As much as he hated to admit it, he had liked having a partner.

Something about the Android had been strangely fascinating, almost endearing.

And he'd had his back. Programming or not, Connor had been more reliable than any other cop Hank had worked with the past years.

He picked up the magazine, staring at the image of the skinless android from the tower.

They sure thought they were alive.

Wanted to be free.

What gave them the right to deny them that?

The thinking hurt his brain and the grieving hurt his chest, so Hank did the only thing he could and grabbed his whiskey from the shelf.

And he hated himself for it.

Fucking CyberLife.

Fucking deviants.

Fucking case.

What's the point now, anyway.

Hank got into his car, turning the music louder and louder until it drowned out his thoughts.

Couldn't they let Gavin deal with his eccentric cousin?

Or Perkins, since he was poking his nose everywhere anyway.

But no, let Anderson do the dirty work, driving out to the fucking butthole of the city to question some vain millionaire about why his inventions were murdering people.

His head felt groggy and heavy but sadly the numbing effect of the whiskey had already left.

What's the point anyway.

He turned on the autopilot, even though he hated and distrusted it, and closed his eyes, wishing it would all just … stop.

"Lieutenant Anderson. You have reached your destination."

The soft voice of his car woke him.

Hank blinked and shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Grabbing the wheel again, he turned into the driveway, approaching the large mansion of CyberLife's founder.

His heart skipped a beat.

Relief washed over him, for a second he forgot himself and smiled, despite himself.

Waiting in front of the building, patiently idling at the foot of the bridge, was Connor.

But …

Fuck.

Just … Fuck this bullshit.

The snow fell softly, melting on their skin, soaking through their clothes.

The air was crisp and cold, still smelling slightly of burned plastic and gasoline.

But it was quiet. The world stood still.

Warmth washed over Hank, as he saw the familiar grey shape appear through the light fog and snowfall.

He couldn't help but smile, relief flooding through him, the tension and worry of the past hours slowly beginning to crumble.

Connor smiled back. It looked a bit clumsy, insecure, so very … human.

The Lieutenant approached, his step quickening in time with his heartbeat, and pulled the Android into his arms.

He held him close, burying his head against the collar of the icy suit.

To his surprise, the artificial skin beneath was almost warm.

He could feel the slight vibration of the thirium pump under the thin shirt.

Connor folded his arms around Hank's lower back, the tension in his shoulders slowly loosening, drawing a deep, quivering breath.

It occurred to Hank that the Android had probably never known actual affection, had not experienced touch other than the punches and scratches in fights.

Something about that realization made him want to keep him safe, hug him closely, give him all the affection that he deserved after all they'd been through together.

Hank raised his head to face him, his expression warm and open.

A million words rushed through his head, so many things to say, to explain.

That he was grateful the Android had saved his life, that he had missed him, that he truly believed he was alive and so much more human than most people he'd met.

Instead, he ruffled his hair affectionately, chuckling.

Connor blinked at him, confusion written all over his face, his LED blinking yellow.

"I'm really glad you're okay." Hank said quietly. "Couldn't bear the thought of losing you again."

"I'm … I'm glad to be alive as well." Connor answered slowly.

Hank nodded, taking Connor's hand, letting their fingers lock.

The Android looked down thoughtfully, his head cocked slightly to the side like a puppy.

His LED stopped blinking and turned into a steady blue.

The skin around the Android's fingers flickered, gliding back to reveal the pale grey plastic underneath. He looked up, curious.

Hank held his hand even tighter, his fingers interlacing with Connor's.

Connor let the skin slide back over his hand, satisfied with the reaction.

He smiled.

Hank suppressed a laugh. It was too weird, him standing out in the freezing cold, holding hands with an Android. Wanting to hold him close and keep him safe and tell him how much he cared.

He hadn't cared in such a long time. He hadn't felt this alive in a very long time.

And after everything that happened, the insane events of the past days, he didn't really care to question anything anymore.

"C'mon Connor," Hank said warmly, "let's get you home."


End file.
